P .3QGE I), -IXO. A 6 HEREOF DESCRIBED BY I. LIVE HARPER. How "lio lias Not a Keauttfui fiage to Give Her Covdmoi • I>id —Happy Effort of the Tie of C <•: t'alli Trifles. r'lveiol Correspondence.! NEW YOKE, NOV. 21.—You wouldn't believe t' ■: t was a real girl, and that she looked ji ( so if you hadn't really seen her; hut ! assure you that 1 met this picture; : ; ::e person the other day, and stared at her from behind a pile of dry goods tir' • every detail of her costume was indelibly fixed upon my mind. This pencil was not a pretty woman, she had a rather sallow complexion, she was over :!ii, I know, and her dark eyes were sunken and had circles around them Ik: t told of ill health, or tearful vigils, in. ; the costume was daring, yet it was so well adapted to the wearer, somehow, t lint it all made up a picture to remember. /11K '' A PICTURESQUE PERSON. The material was a 6eal brown plush, •with the facing of moire of the same shade, and down the front of the skirt v.', re three bands of mahogany plush, t ;id t!;is same shade was also used for facin to the revere of the directoire •collar re were caps to, the sleeves of the; Around the neck was worn a full i-chief of crepe lisse, and deep ■ •' the same material were at the wi 'lie hat was large, of seal brow; with the crown completely cover. ostrich plumes, shaded from through brown to cream. With i i carried a Tosca parasol. Tlii i ; . right, but it is not every body winl, uld make that rather stiff looking I - ::ume appear a part and par cel of it. if. and it is this which I wish to imprc.-s upon the minds of my wo men b : .<!s, tiiat each one owes it to her self t > study herself and her dress in re t:,! . ; to herself. M i very pretty, and individual effects juj: i • , ' i vod l>y tlie understanding use i., ■vain little trifles in the illus trate The hair can be arranged in a beci • :.n:icr with sotue dainty little pin.i. ■ style adopted and continued until • . t of it is fixed in the mind of i Her. The new jewel* are, aft .me old jewels reset, hut • tin :or fully pretty, and the > be: ,o would be a desirable an veiling toilet. The hair pii , :ns. the necklace and br: i beautiful, and are, aside fro rinsic value, just as hand son. i as in diamonds, and they caa .•! rve in adorning beauty ju -t never wear false dia ni cave no one, and no la eraelf \\ bile she knows si: .1 jewelry. • i • i v embroidered erepe ja. ■ my amiable readers to inn • . . eof cream crepe, with tiny i a colors, and with "bit rib!vi • . a : co.cb saleswoman saiil. i is of Mechlin lace and c . , , a ti,sv bow of rib bon in. .L.i :,o little additions to a toilet • v, i . dressy. and, when bought • a., do are very costly, but ladies ,e lliem with very little trouble ami expense. There are what arc callc i "pun apple handkerchiefs," and they i a.i be dotted all over with col life Wit I I t f / "N ?<-■) '' usm" > f ' a ?<s££ \ • i i Pi : . 1?'-: '\}j l; •;.( /.v y\ r b Wfl : • | fi i V 5* * ■.< y Vo. ■ I.:- '• AbtbTIKS. ored i i . v sin rt time, and whs: 1,1. ON embroidered edge, uru.. i ' • can be sewed on. Tin*-- 1 • v lit little above the midu." i in a<- i|i hs fuincli and shaken and I i ",.i en i iural folds, which are ih< ; , ni inu> thai form and, with j a "b-i :i i b.iiv," it is made into a i pretty „.;•■! ticit is always a dressy ad dition i . ;i pl.jiu gown. So then, let us all i.vi r that we can be pictu resque, k;.,: . !■. graceful or harmonious. If not hand .-(tine, according to the care we besl ••••• ii;-oil oc.r garments, and their fitr*- - t n s i!u, OLIVE HARPER. ' i THE AMERICAN NEGROES. Their Peculiar Capacity for Mirth, H%rH meut aud Melody. [Special Correspondence. | NEW YOKE, NOV. 21.—Those brought intimately in contact with the negro are wont at times, when care or concern bears heavily on them, to envy him his capacity for enjoyment. With his life cast in somber lines, the (larkev is ever predisposed to humor, vivacity and a satisfaction with the decrees of fate. The smile on his face and laugh on his lips are strong bulwarks against the ills that bleach the hair and dig furrows in the brow. To "cat, drink and be merry," is an ingrained capacity of the darkey, stronger at birth than a theory, ! and an article of fault through life, though unwittingly. lie is built that < way, and is never so happy as when in j any degree enabled to illustrrnte the in- I clination. It is with the approach of the holidays, j when, having received his money for his ; crops, and feeling that lie can get ad ! vances from "the store" during the j next summer, lie is as improvident as the fabled 'grasshopper, and lives like a lord. Of course, it must be understood that the country darkey is referred to here. Ilis town brother lives a hand to mouth existence, and rarely lias enough money at any one time to indulge his in clinations. The lack of funds does not detract from the disposition, but curtails the scope of indulgence. The nature of the negro makes him a charming factor in literature, when some 6tudciit of history awakens an echo of the past, or a delicately attuned romance or lay treats tenderly of individual lives. Those of the north who know the darkey only through Page, Edwards. Johnson or Cable have little opportunity of seeing in life the characteristics depicted, unless they leave the beaten route of southern travel and stray off into the bypaths, where the scenes are irreconcilable with the days of modern progress. There, wending his way through cool, umbrageous lanes, carpeted with nee dles from the tall, soughing pines, or un der the somber cypress, the traveler may meet a family of darkies going calling or to the village to sell berries. They will pass down the road in Indian file, and. though the wayfarer be a total stranger, lie will be the recipient of the most courteous and cordial salutation. The mother will beam on him from be neath tier bright bandana, which matches, perhaps, a vivid pink gown. He will meet many other faces like hers at the cabin doors, where the cultivated taste for vlchy, s-. itzer, or carbonic will meet with a Insurable surprise when quaffing deep draughts of spring water from a "sweet gourd" dipper. Toappre ciate a drink of water, one should drink it from the gourd. The singing and dancing of the darky on the plantation is in striking contrast totbatof thedrawiug room performance of the white hiiks. I have seen a group sitting quietly. Holding their hands, when one of the party would take up some queer chant, l.ie words of which \vould be lost in per:: tent dwelling on the aspi rates. At fir-1 tile measure would be slow and hailing. Inn, as others joined in and took up the chorus, the rude melody of the song w add he rounded out and swell with a p He,i.e.„ii currying its burden toother.- .:t work in the fields, who would take up the familiar air till the neighbor hood would pulsate in song. Some 01 these songs are largely recita tive, wiiii a weird, lonesome chorus; others breathe fiance steps so plainly that only a few Oars are finished before the singers are patting for souie of their ' number, who. re on the boards or sand I sluil'fiing. "cuiuug llie pike," "the pigeon j wing" and oilier popular steps. The negro is a lover of melody, and it I is not an infrequent tiling to find them ! grouped an, it the front piazzas when j there is company at the "big house" | and the piano is giving lorth a favorite j Chopin. Strauss or (iottschalk. Long ! after the echoes of the melody have i died away on the night they will remain spellbound, .fianuscript music was a sore puzzle to our general utility man, who was styled Cupid, for the reason, perhaps, Unit he was totally unlike that mischievous lit tie god both in appear ance and prowess. 1 believe 1 could have conveyed to him more clearly an understanding of the cosmogony of "Paradise Lost" than of the method of writing music With their naturally joyous tempera ment one might believe that allegro would be their favorite musical move ment, but penseroso is more frequently voiced in their efforts. When by them selves, safe from an audience, they yield to the spirit of song, and a pathos of yearning, pleading and protesting is thrown into their homely lay, and comes to the hearer as the voice of a soul in travail With the end of the song a merry laugh will tlisjicl these vague fan cies and deepen the [lerptrxity of the cure . ner. !'• ' ; with the advent of tlie I' •: ..irri which the darky s> investing in lireworks and h "• • fondness for sweet meats, a> until after Sew Year's, th.; . . iv,ol k |jer.'or:tied on the farm. It i.s one louiel of y,:\c:y Hunting in the day and dunce;g at night The Sew Year's, which isei U-iruic i by that <)Ueer custom called in;; Egypt. comes all too soon Tins custom is a religious ceremonial, but i< generally denounced by the clergy as unorthodox They lind it a relic of \ oodoo pi act ice, and the frenzy whim its music and marcbiii;; seem to bring on is di.-coiu ;r:: >iu\ d by tlie pul pit The ■. a.ioiis in munv in- stances. however, insist on "walking" or make their pastor w..lu. and they gener ally have their - av This ••walking Egypt" is nothing more than the eniire eon,.legation forming m line and filing up one aisle and down tlie other to the measure of chants which work on the emotions and result in all manner of excesses and abandonment. Under the influence of its spell the marchers seem insensible to pain, and will oftentimes spring through the win dows, The women are more susceptible toil i- cation than the men 'Walk ing marks the endin •' "i of tie THOMJM I' ' LUCKY BOSTON AUTHORS. HOW "_OOKING BACKWARD" AND | "THOU SHALT NOT" ARE SELLING. Who tho Writer of tho Latter Book Re ally Is—His Answer to the Question "Does Novel Writing Pay?" with Ad vice to Aspirants to Literary Fame. [Special Correspondence. J BOSTON, NOV. 21. —Seated at a table in a restaurant the other evening, the writer saw the man who wrote one of the two great literary successes of the year iu American fiction. "Well, how is 'Thou Shalt Not' sell ing?" I asked. "First rate," was the answer; "the American News company tells me that my book and 'Looking Backward' are the only books that are selling to amount to anything." Tho speaker was the man who, under the assumed name of "Albert Ross," wrote that much discussed book, "Thou Shalt Not," and a companion novel, "His Private Character." In that as sumed name there is an intentional pun on the name of the series in which both novels were published, the Albatross se ries. At first the novel "Thou Shalt Not" was put forth to the reading public anonymously. It was npt long, how ever, before there came a demand to know the name of the author. With the success of the book assured, it was deemed advisable to still keep his per sonality a secret while seemingly satis fying the demand for the author's name. His real personality is now for the first time made known in print in this-arti cle. He is Linn Boyd Porter. He is a man of about 34, of medium height and stout, with a frank and cheery manner. His pleasant blue eyes light up with a smile when he meets you, and tho chang ing expressions of his face, which are unconcealed save by a short mustache, show lnost unmistakably his pleasure in meeting old or new friends. He has served an apprenticeship of many long years in newspaper work. For years he was editor of The Cambridge Chronicle, and latterly lie has been one of the night) desk editors on The Boston Herald, from which he resigned when his book be came a success. During our talk, he became rather more communicative on personal mat ters than is his wont, and for the first time openly acknowledged that he was the author of "Thou Shalt Not." He also gave several incidents relating to the early history of that book which have never been told. Aspirants for literary fame and resulting fortune will be interested in this story of a phenom enally successful novel. It is now near ing its one hundredth thousand, and its sale is made more remarkable from its being the first work of an unknown i writer. I tell the story just as he told it me. "I wrote the story," he said, "nearly three years before it was published. In order to secure perfectly legible manu script I dictated it to a typewriter, after which I laid it carefully away in a bu reau drawer. I often took it out and read it over, and I never doubted that it would be a success if it once got on the market; but I could not muster sufficient courage to offer it to any publisher. At last, when going on a pleasure trip to New York, I took the manuscript with me, determining to make one desperate effort to overcome my timidity. The next morning I walked to Twenty-third street, and with many misgivings as cended the elevator, to the office of G. W. Dillingham. 1 never felt more re lieved in my life than when a gentle manly clerk informed me that the pub lisher was not in. " 'Here is some manuscript that I would like to have him read,'" I said, laying down my little package. The clerk took it, informing me that it would probably be returned at my expense, which I did not doubt in the least. If such had been the story's fate, it would, very likely, have been relegated to the bureau drawer for another three years, hut within a fortnight I received a letter from Mr. Dillingham, accepting the novel and proposing a royalty, which was as generous, I believe, as is paid by any American house to its authors." It is not likely that any anonymous npvel has ever had such a rapid rise to a great circulation in this country, for the first editions appeared, as stated above, without any signature whatever, and with no especial advertising or other means of attracting attention. When the second novel was issued last August there were advance orders for 20,000 cop ies. More than 30,000 more have been sold since that time, and the demand for both "Thou Shalt Not" and "His Private Character" compels at the present time the printing of 4,000 copies a week. They are sold from Bangor to San Francisco and from Galveston to Montreal, and the demand bids fair to continue. While thus talking over his success, Mr. "Ross." as lie still prefers to be t:'.!!•" I. let out the fact that lie is en gaged on and Iris nearly finished a story which will bear the peculiar title "Speaking of Ellen." It treats of the labor question, and in it is interwoven a love story of the kind which has made his pen famous. Ellen is the chief of the spinners raid weavers of Riverfleld, and tin l "contest of intellect" between her anil Philip Wcstland, agent of the corporation, in which, of course, the girl comes out victorious, makes a story which, as rapidly outlined by Mr. "Ross" in his impetuous conversation, must be of absorbing interest. The writer asked liini the question now so frequently raised: "Does it pay to write novels?" In reply, he said that his income, the first year of hisattempt in that direction, exceeded the salary of a United States cabinet officer and equaled thecombined amounts paid by the state of Massachu setts to its governor and council. In other words, it amounts to about $9,000 a year for the first year. lie will put bis money to good uses, too. He is receiv ing proposals from prominent publishers almost daily, while requests for his au tograph are sent from all over the coun try. Tho best of the whole matter, too, is that his head is not at all turned by his sudden elevation from comparative poverty as a newspaper man to affluence. More widely known than he, because his personality has been less concealed, is the author of the other and greatest success of the year, Edward Bellamy, whose novel "Looking Backward" is now in the one hundred and seventy-fifth thousand. It will have reuched and passed the two hundred thousand limit before tho end of the year. It is now selling at the rate of 1,500 copies a day, or 9,000 copies a week. The author's royalties on these are at the usual rate of 10 per cent, on the retail price. This is five cents a copy on the paper edition, which, on the sales of 9,000 copies a week, amounts to the snug income of at least $450. This extraordinary sale, unpre cedented since Harriet Beecher Stowe's "Uncle Tom's Cabin," to which, by the way, this book has been compared, has only been in full swing Bince the first of July. Although having known him for over a year and meeting him many times, I could not help being struck when at a dinner, a short time ago, at which he, W. D. Howells and several other au thors and newspaper men were present, by the difference between him and Por ter. They are two of the most success ful authors of the year, and yet how dif ferent in looks, in style and constructive method. In fact, they seem almost an tipodal, yet the great public enjoys both. It seemed to me that the same personal difference found a parallel in the subjects of their novels and the man ner in which they were treated. Porter's personal outlines have been already given. His novels are a succession of pictures, devoid of plot, and are realistic and Zolaesque to the verge of animality. Bellamy's novels are, on the contrary, of more or less intricacy in plot, and, like himself, of a delicate, sensitive organism. Of about the medium height, Mr. Bellamy is rather slender in build. His dark, grave face is illuminated by a pair of kindly gray eyes, which have at times a shrewd, and occasionally quizzi cal, look about their corners. His fore head is large and finely formed. A heavy, drooping mustache covers his mouth. He talks in a warm, sympa thetic voice, which immediately com mands attention. In manner he is quiet, and liable to be introspective. His whole appearance, when in repose, stamps him as the man of imagination. Any one who has read his shorter stories of re cent date, "To Whom This May Come" and "A Positive Romance," or his earlier works, "Miss Ludington's Sister" and "Dr. Ileidenhof's Process," must admit that in him is present a delicate, playful and exuberant imagination such as is possessed by no modern author since Hawthorne. His "Looking Backward," considered simply as a work of the imagination, commands the respect even of the enemies of its theories. He lias often told the writer that he had never read any book on social ques tions before he wrote "Looking Back ward," and believed that he never would have written it if he had read them, for his mind would have then been confused. Although comparatively wealthy now, he is not happy, as he is a long and pa tient sufferer from that old fashioned New England disease, dyspepsia. On this account he will this winter take a trip to Cuba for several months. He has orders for a number of books that he cannot yet see his way to write, and is now engaged on a dramatization of "Looking Backward." This winter he hopes to write a work which shall pre sent in didactic form the social theories contained in that book. He is now about 89 years of age. and lives with his charm ing family in the old homestead at Chico pee Falls, Mass. An enormous mail comes to this little postoffice for him from all over the world. Many of his literary brethren in and near Boston have expressed a great desire to meet him, and were he in good health he would be over loaded with courtesies from them. In vitations have also come across the sea from England from several prominent literary men and artists asking him to come over there. Already "Looking Backward" (a pirated edition, by the way) is selling there very rapidly, 15,000 copies having been disposed of at the shilling rate, Like Porter, he has served in news paper work, having been for eight years actively engaged on Springfield and New York papers. He, in addition, has been admitted to the bar, but has done but little practicing. Both men are of old New England stock. Such is a hasty pen picture of the two most talked about authors of the day, and the men who, with but one or two notable exceptions, are making the most money out of fiction. "Does novel writing pay?" With Bellamy making §20,000 a year and Porter §9,000, what is your answer? GYRUS FIELD WILLARD. Couldn't Part with That. A few of us had arrived early at Sun day evening services in a church in an Ohio town, when the minister was taken with a tickling in the throat. After coughing for several minutes ho asked if any of us had a troche. A young fellow and his girl occupied close quarters in one of the seats, and his thumb and finger went down into his vest pocket at the request. "Aiil Thomas, I shall be greatly obliged," 6aid the good man as he ad vanced. Thomas fished up a lozenge with some red letters on it, started to hand it to the minister, but changed his mind arid dropped it back into his pocket. "Well?" "You see, sir," whispered Thomas, as he rose up, "I've only got one, and I can't part with that. It says: 'I love you' on it, and I'm going to slip it to Sarah as soon as you folks stop looking!" —New York Sun. Crusty—Be careful, waiter, your thumb i 6 in the soup. Waiter—l don't mind it, sir; I'm used to it.—Epoch. ItELICS OF COLUMBUS. THEY ARE SCARCE, BUT WASHING TON HAS A FEW. Tho Ideal Bust of the Discoverer —A Bolt from His Prison—The King to Which He W as Chained—The Bronze Doors of the Capitol. [Special Corresponcjpnce.] WASHINGTON, NOV. 21. —1n the great rotunda of tho Capitol is a plaster me dallion portrait of a man who will be much talked about during theuext three years. It is an imaginary portrait, for the subject has been dead nearly four centuries, and no authentic picture of him is in existence. For the first time, COLUMBUS RELICS, the name of Christopher Columbus is to be intimately associated with a great public event in the chief nation of the world which he discovered. The Co lumbus fair of 1893 will make the voy ager's name a household word. His struggles and triumphs will bo recited in the ears of millions of human beings. The nations of the Old World will gather with those of the new to do him honor. All the public memorials of Columbus which this country has erected are clus tered about the rotunda of the capital. It is a matter of proper pride with Amer icans that, though Columbus spoke not the English tongue, and though he never set foot on the soil of the present terri tory of the United States, this country has not been slow to honor his name and his deeds in monuments of bronze and marble. This plaster head is one of the 6addest things I have seen in the Capitol. Sad because it is a bogus Columbus. Pity that the head of the real Columbus— of the Columbus who lived in a land of painting and sculpture should have been lost in the mists of the past. Sad because it reminds one of the great man journeying back to the Old World, from the New World which he had discovered, in chains. Sad because it brings to mind the death of Columbus in ignorance of the magnitude of his discovery, in ignor ance of the fact that ho had brought a new world under the domain of civiliza tion. There is much that is pathetic in the career of Columbus, and of one of the saddest incidents of his life we find a pe culiar souvenir in the National museum. It is well known that this institution contains personal relics of nearly all the great men whose names appear in the history of North America, and yet one is surprised to find something that was associated with the person of the very first European whose feet touched these shores. At first thought one is impress ed in much the same manner as he fan- TRANSOM PANEL OP THE GREAT BRONZE DOOR. cies he would be on coming upon a per sonal relic of Adam or Moses. Yet here is a little bolt of rusty iron which held the chain which bound Columbus a pris oner in San Domingo. There is some thing startling in the thought of laying hand upon a physical object which has felt the touch of the flesh of Columbus, but there is little cause to doubt tlie au thority of the relic. The bolt was ob tained by Robert Moore, purser in the navy in 1844. and ho guaranteed its gen uineness. Corroborative evidence is found in the little bottle lying close by. It contains small fragments of wood, and is marked: "Wood from the mortised beam in the wall of the dungeon called the dungeon of the prophets, in the city of San Do mingo. To this beam was attached the ring from which hung the ohain that held Admiral Christopher Columbus during his imprisonment by order of Francisco de Bobadilla in 1500." Not far away stands a cross which ap peals strongly to the imagination of the average American. It is a simple piece of wood which flashes histcvy before him like a flash of lire, which carries the mind instantly back to the most dra matic moment of the career of a conti nent. Think of holding in one's hand the stall which Columbus held, and which flaunted the flag of Spain when the discoverer first planted his foot on western soil and took possession in the name of Ferdinand and Isabella! Vet that is what this cross purports to bo mado of. Unfortunately, there are some doubts of its genuineness, and the mu seum authorities not wishing to display a parallel to the skin of the serpent which tempted Mother Eve, which may be seen in a Chicago museum, nor to the historic pair of Shakespeare skulls— "one of Shakespeare the boy, and the other of Shakespearo the man" —said to be on exhibition at Stratford-on-Avon, have ordered the cross sent into retire ment till further light may be nad upon its pedigree. Should the Columbus quadri-centennial exposition be held in the capital city, visitors will here find the career of the discoverer epitomized In a most curious, most admirable and most enduring form. It is a bronze door—the great bronze door which hangs at the eastern entrance to the rotunda —the door through which a scoreof presidents have passed on their way to take the oath of office. This door is justly considered one of the attractions of the Capitol. Visitors long linger over it, interested by the novel effect of the pictures made of lines raised from a flat surface, pleased with the graphic por trayal of the life of Columbus, to be com prehended at a glance, and sometimes a little startled on seeing a mere child take one of the ponderous doors in each hand and swing them to and fro. The weight of '.he two doors is 20,000 pounds. With their casing, also of hronze, and superbly carved, they measure nine feet by nine teen. They were modeled in Rome, in 18.18, by an American, Randolph Rogers, and were cast in bronze at Munich in 1800. The cost to the government was $28,000. It is a work of art, which must be not only seen but studied to he appreciated. There are nine panels, four in each leaf of the door and one in the transom, rep resenting in alto relievo the leading events in the career of Columbus. First, the enthusiast is examined before the council of Salamanca respecting his theory of the globe, which is rejected. Next comes his departure for the Span ish court from the convent near Palos, and in succession his audience at the throne of Ferdinand and Isabella, his departure on his first voyage, landing on the island of San Salvador and taking possession in the name of his sovereign, an encounter with the natives, trium phal entry into Barcelona on his return to Spain, Columbus in chains, and final ly, Columbus on his deathbed. Embel lishing the borders are sixteen statuett£2 of patrons and contemporaries of the admiral. Among these are Pope Alex ander VI, Ferdinand, Isabella, the arch bishop of Toledo, an early patron of Co lumbus; Charles VIII of France, a friend to all maritime enterprises; Lady Boba dilla. a friend of the admiral's (likeness of Mrs. Rogers, wife of the sculptor); Pinzon, commander of the Pinta, second vessel in the first fleet to cross the ocean; Columbus' brother, Bartholomew; Bal- THE PICTURE IN THE ROTUNDA, boa, discoverer of the Pacific ocean; Cortez, the conqueror of Mexico; Pizar ro, conqueror of Peru, and Amerigo Veßpucci, the voyager from whom our continent derives its name. Just outside the bronze door, on the eastern portico of the Capitol, is the only statue of Columbus in the United States. It is a semi-colossal group, representing the discovery of America. Columbus holds aloft a small globe, on the top of which is inscribed America. At his side crouches an astonished and ewe stricken Indian maiden looking up into the face of tho admiral. It is said the armor which the figure of Columbus wears is true to a rivet, having been copied from a suit in the palace of the discoverer's descendants at Genoa. But those are by no means all tli Co lumbus memorials of which the rotunda boasts. Conspicuous among the eight huge paintings adorning the walls is the "Landing of Columbus at San Salvador," Oct. 12, 1492. John Vanderlyn, of New York, was the artist, and the govern ment paid him §IO,OOO for his work. In the foreground is Columbus, planting ir the sand the royal standard, of v. liici fragments are said to bo in the National Museum. Behind him are his officers, the two Pinzons, Escobedo, the notary; Sanchez, the government inspector; a mutineer, now in suppliant attitude; a cabin boy kneeling, a friar bearing a crucifix, a sailor kneeling in veneration for the admiral, and on the shore other sailors giving expression to their joy on reaching land, or contending for glittering particles in the sand. From behind trees and bushes the natives are looking out with awe stricken faces. The chains which bound Columbus, the armor worn by him, the signature which lie made, still exist. How un fortunate it is that no likenessof his face has survived may be judged by a look at these figures in bronze, plaster, marble and canvas. The Columbus who lands THE ONLY COLUMBUS STATUE, on our shores in bronze iias a beardless face, while the Columbus of the painting is bearded like a patriarch. The Colum bus of the statue on the east portico bears small resemblance to the Colum bus of the medallion within the rotunda. WALTER WELLMAN. TUey Catch Right on. It doesn't take an American long to catch on to any sort of situation. A De troiter goes to Germany, remains two weeks, and returns to report that there will be no war in Europe for the next five years. It would have taken any other sort of a man a month to make up his mind on a matter like that. — Detroit Free Press.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers